X6 RAG-TIME ANB TANGO
patriotism); but, least of all, his own, devoted by a long
and glorious tradition to all the exercises of organised
emotion heightened by the very last devices of publicity—
the nobly waving flag, the soundly beaten drum, the rich
eloquence of Conventions, and annual holocausts of Fourth
of July fire-crackers. So one had half expected some
stupendous intimation of all the wonders that lay in waiting
a mile or so ahead—a fanfare of headlines, flourish of
posters, tucket of sky-signs, or a grand set-piece of advertise-
ment with linguistic rockets starred along the zenith and
Catherine-wheels of appreciation revolving in mute ecstasy.
But the landfall was oddly unobtrusive. For America
steals on the explorer out of the morning mist. The big
blue mountains of mid-ocean w&re far behind us now; and
smooth levels of grey water sliding past presently disclosed
an indubitably American tanker, followed by real American
gulls and by mud-flats yet more real. Then (o Columbus ;
o Amerigo Vespucci) islets took shape and slid away into
the mist. A dreary coast-line heaved slowly into the morn-
ing ; and even the sharp angles of coast-defences failed to
lend dignity to Staten Island, For there is little of Gibraltar
about Fort Wadsworth. The coast itself seems slightly
incredulous; and that rectangular silhouette, which guards
the approaches of strong places and awes visitors to Metx
with a sense of guns invisibly in waiting behind the shaven
green of smooth escarpments, seems somehow out of place
in full view of Coney Island. For one had not looked for
guns of position among the switchbacks. Then, our engines
running easily for the first time in six days, the Narrows
slid past; Liberty, avoiding the obvious by a praiseworthy
effort, was small beyond expectation, a greenish miniature
of her enormous fame; and the ecstatic watchers on the
deck saw tall, unlikely towers step suddenly out of the mist
and group themselves into a city.
But down below, where the baggage waited neatly stacked
outside relinquished state-rooms, the anxious voices still
enquired along each sounding passage for the Something